The door was open, but probably because it couldn’t close. Mounds of paper covered the floor, making the small space look like a stationary model of his dented pharmacy on wheels. A pigsty. The vet himself was sitting behind a desk smothered with more paper, and a plastic plate perched on one of the plateaus, proffering a half-eaten ham sandwich. “Got a second?” I asked. He looked up from something he was reading, then picked up the sandwich and took a bite, talking around the food. “You’re just the person I wanted to see.” I used my foot to move the piles, enough to close the door. “Yeah, go ahead,” he said. “Make a mess, why don’t you?” I managed to close the door, barely, then lunged over stalagmites. They seemed built from mail-order catalogs. The room’s one chair was covered with newspapers that crinkled dryly when I sat down. The vet glared at me. Next to him, thumbtacked into the unpainted gypsum wallboard, note cards held handwritten reminders. They all started with the same words: Don’t Forget!
What do You think about The Stars Shine Bright (2012)?
